


Battles and Wars

by arpita



Category: Baahubali (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Darkness, F/M, How Do I Tag, I know I'm bad at tagging, most of the characters are just a passing mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-26
Updated: 2019-12-26
Packaged: 2021-02-26 12:47:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21969553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arpita/pseuds/arpita
Summary: Bhalla tries hard to find a way to reconcile his mind with Amarendra taking over the Throne of Maahishmati. His wife, Indira, watches as he struggles within himself. There's nothing she can do to control his mind, for after all, the mind is an instrument governed by one's own self.
Relationships: Amarendra Baahubali & Kattappa, Amarendra Baahubali/Bhallaladeva, Amarendra Baahubali/Sivagami, Bhallaladeva (Baahubali)/Original Female Character(s), Bhallaladeva/Indira (OFC), Bhallaladeva/Sivagami (Baahubali)
Comments: 16
Kudos: 16
Collections: Margazhi in Mahishmati 2019





	Battles and Wars

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thelonewolfwrites](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelonewolfwrites/gifts).



_ “I, Amarendra Baahubali”- _

The masses cheered in fervour, Sivagami Devi looked on in awe and her face glowed, reflecting the maternal pride that made her heart swell with joy. Kattappa, behind his usual gait, could barely hide his happiness.

Bijjaladeva sulked in fury, as was expected. 

And there  **_he_ ** was-

Indira couldn’t decipher the look on Bhalla’s face. 

_ -“Do solemnly swear”-  _ Baahubali’s baritone voice continued, resonating through the deafening cheers of the crowd that just couldn’t get enough of their new King.

She ignored Devasena’s proud countenance, even as she beamed, barely containing her elation at her husband’s ascent to such  _ -deserving-  _ glory. 

_ “To protect, and cherish the sovereign of Maahishmati, in the name of the Queen Mother” _ -

Bhallaladeva’s throat tightened. She didn’t know why she felt her muscles clench underneath her own skin.

“I need to go.” he said shortly, betraying nothing as the concourse cheered Amarendra harder.

She knew, The Chief Commander’s absence won’t be felt, at least not till The King’s ceremonial proceedings continued.

\---

  
  


It had been quite sometime. Bhalla had, of course, eventually been called away for further formalities by The Queen Mother. He had tried to excuse himself, but in vain. 

_ Compliance, particularly forced, hadn’t been in his nature _ , Indira thought. Sivagami Devi should have known. 

_ But then, even if she did, would she have heeded? _ , someone seemed to whisper, ominously.

Bhalla was back in their chamber. Silent. Reticent. Unmoving.

His chain of thoughts was as tangible as his stoic silence. Beneath that cold, hard exterior, lay a plethora of contemplations that ran amok, hidden from everyone’s eyes, festering a wound that was now turning incurable.

It  _ had  _ been long enough. Now that she came to think of it, it wasn’t unusual for him to feel thus. He had been capable enough, deserving enough, and yet-

-The Throne now had Baahubali seated on it.-

Turned out, Bhallaladeva hadn’t been enough, for the throne. Objectively, he had had his fair share of conspiracies to lessen his credits, and hence his claim, but then-

_ Couldn’t the intellectually endowed Queen Mother see through her own child’s descent into darkness.  _

‘I’m trying, Indu,’ he had said, a few months after her Swayamvar, ‘I  **_really_ ** am.’ he seemed to sound like a desperate man, trying to claw his way out of the tenebrosity he had embroiled himself in.

He had confessed to his faults, to his subtle machinations with The Pradhan Guru, his umpteen attempts to slay the only intrusion that always remained on his way to the Maahishmati Throne.

Maybe, just by sheer chance, he had hoped that he might get to share the Throne with him. After all, despite everything, Bhalla and Baahubali had been bonded by blood, and as they said, 

_ Blood of the covenant is thicker than the water from the womb. _

They hadn’t shared Sivagami’s womb, but they certainly were comrades. They had shed blood together, in every battle, however insignificant or otherwise, by that logic, they could surely have shared the Throne.

_ At least _ , she wept, to no one in particular,  _ that would have saved him. _

One little nod of acknowledgement, one silent allusion of appreciation wouldn’t have lessened The Queen Mother’s affections for Baahubali, and Amara, being the loving, understanding brother that he was, would never have batted an eyelid. Truth be told, he had been the only one, - _ albeit unbeknownst of Bhalla’s attempts _ \- to have genuinely acknowledged his brother’s contributions in his battles.

But it didn’t matter in the end, and to add an insult to the injury, Bhalla had only begun his attempts at a personal, psychological reconciliation at Baahu’s magnified presence. Only to be sidelined once again.

He had deftly hidden his hatred of Baahubali, for so long.

_ Would he continue doing the same? _ , she wondered, wiping a silent tear.

‘Worry not, My Love.’ Bhalla suddenly began, breaking her chain of contemplations, within contemplations.

She said nothing. Her eyes did the talking for her.

‘I won’t hide the truth, not from you, of all people,’ he continued, seating himself beside her on the bed, ‘Neither would I deny that I’m not taking Baahu’s coronation as well as I would have expected myself to,’

She watched him swallow. She wished she could say something,  _ anything at all _ .

‘I don’t know,’ was all she could muster.

‘Neither do I.’ came the eventual reply.

‘It doesn’t matter,’ she said, earnestly.

‘It does, to me.’ Bhalla reaffirmed.

Indira sighed, not inaudibly.

She watched the moonlight caress his calloused fingers, as she intertwined themselves with her own. She wondered if its solemn brightness did anything to quell the tumult within him.

_ The mind wages wars, not mere battles,  _ she remembered him telling her once.

‘Yet, I shall try,’ he whispered, tracing a nonchalant pattern on her finger.

She knew, he hadn’t reassured her.

How could he?

**_When he was in severe doubt, himself?_ **

  
  
  
  



End file.
